


Uprooted

by swan_songs



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Injury, Established Relationship, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Permanent Injury, Post-Canon Fix-It, Time Skips, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, if it can be called that, this one is pretty graphic, very mild though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 09:26:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18736258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swan_songs/pseuds/swan_songs
Summary: A year later, Goro Akechi wakes up.





	Uprooted

**Author's Note:**

> it's goro day eyeryone, lets celebrate with some post-game angst! I'm not very proud of it but it was stuck in my wip folder for almost a year, went through 4 full rewrites and I just want this mess gone. I literally just wanted to write something angsty and pretentious to see if I can but it bit me in the ass and I regret everything.
> 
> unbetaed bc I'm not going to force anyone to read this.

Covered in fresh foliage, tree branches sway delicately in the wind, their shadows gently caressing the starved for sunlight, slowly reawakening world. After all, the days have been getting longer, the sun has been shining brighter, the birds' songs have been growing louder. It’s spring again.

 

All life welcomes it, even humans, with windows to their living spaces, once sealed with winter's frost, now open to let the first breath of fresh air in, to start replacing the old with the new.

In one such room, sun and wind dance soundlessly hand in hand; the bone-white see-through curtains like a veil of light, thin stripes of shadows thrown against it creating delicate patterns, strangely harmonious and perfectly natural in their contrast.

But the small, sparsely furnished space with it’s too pale walls, holds the same deception as it's resident once did. Warm and cozy in the right light, pleasant like mid-afternoon sun filtering in through the windows that seem more like a barrier, keeping the newly blooming life outside. Inside, the room remains still and deathly silent, as through winter was making it’s last stand within its walls.

Standing not too far away from the windows, just about enough for the direct sunlight not to reach it, stands a simple bed with pristine white sheets laid out on it. With a rustle quieter than a gust of wind, from among them slowly rises a pale-skinned boy; more a frozen corpse than a flower awoken by a bird song, unburying itself from under a heavy blanket of still lingering snow.

There’s autumn in the colors that he brings with himself; cinnamon of his hair and wine of his iris. Nothing like the bright hues of flowers welcome to sprout anywhere they want. He stills to observe the shadows playing around on the ground, gentler the ones in his head, livelier than his gaze that lacks the spark of sunlight the dewdrops are adorned with each morning. His slow blinks and even slower breaths add no life to the room despite having awoken, so deeply lost in thought his senses are almost completely muted. A stronger breeze comes to play with the curling ends of his hair, bringing the smell of fresh flowers, coming not from outside, but from a small vase standing on the bedside table just to his right. Daisies, probably handpicked due to their mismatched sizes and shapes, supplies his mind as he unhurriedly looks up to stare in their direction. They weren’t there before he took the nap. His unfocused gaze stays trained on the small bouquet without really seeing it.

Silence; peaceful, soothing, undemanding silence surrounds him. Similar, yet very different from the mind-numbing buzz he used to fill his mind with; he lets this one grow around him like a blanket of vines, their roots hugging his limbs instead of digging into his skin. Back then, when tuning everything out was a necessity to cling to sanity, to remember who he is and what his purpose was, just to survive long enough to reach the goal, he couldn’t allow himself to turn off. So he fought with idle silence by never allowing himself to sit still, always making himself busy, always having something to occupy himself with at all times until even that would fail. Only then he’d give himself a moment, just a moment, to further numb his aching heart, but never to catch his breath nor to not acknowledge the tears that sometimes, sometimes just wouldn’t stop falling.

All to salvage the unsalvageable, the last-ditch attempt at holding together the constantly threatening to fall apart pieces of the plan, of himself, of his nonexistent future. He believed, after lying to himself long enough, that it was okay and his grip would get firmer down the line, tighter and less shaky with everything progressing. That what he’s holding in his grasp weren’t just empty dreams, already turned to dust by his own hand.

And in the long run, it has turned him into a stone cold statue. Over the years of hard work, chiseled to perfection by his own hands, strengthened yet weathered and worn by the passage of time, by the harsh elements, by being left at the mercy of the world for so long. Thinking of himself infallible, he’d endure everything life threw at him; in reality just waiting for a day when his self-imposed duty has been fulfilled and a blow strong enough to crumble him, to end him, to free him, came. But at the same time desperately wishing his fate was different, cursing the inability to change it, yet valiantly clinging on if just to spite those who wanted to see him fall.

Stubbornly continuing his existence when for the majority of his life he was being passed by without a glance spared towards him, with those who did, looking away as soon as they saw flaws; only for everyone to want a piece of him as soon as just being in limelight made him desirable. Fame and a job have brought many burdens with it and even more of those trying to chip at his foundations, but none succeeded in toppling him.

That is, until Ren manages to do just that, and in such short time Goro doesn’t notice when it happens. Seemingly without even trying, too; using not force but persistent gentleness akin to rainwater; slowly but surely smoothing out the jagged edges of the stone with it’s annoyingly relentless yet soothing flow, filling in the cracks and making it that much closer to the core each day.

How fitting.

And once all the stone fell away with a clap of thunder, revealing the ugly, disturbing truth hiding beneath it, Ren stayed. But instead of sneering at how weak and useless he was, instead of leaving him in the dust, he saw fit to dirty his hands with it, salvaging what’s left in an effort to give Goro a chance for a proper foundation to rebuild himself on and a shelter until he can achieve that.

Shelter in form of hospital bed he woke up in just a couple of weeks ago, after an over year-long long coma.

Foundation in form of a physical therapy, for now, to allow him to stand on his own two feet again. Literally. Baby steps, in Ren’s own words. Ren, who should be the last person helping him and first to spit in his face. Goro’s mouth tasted sour for days. Still does sometimes.

Blinking to refocus on the world that forgot about him, the former detective tries to ignore the person softly snoring at his bedside, currently doing very poorly at his self-proclaimed mission of guarding it. The sole person who has put genuine effort into attempting to befriend him, into getting past his defenses with kind words and, kinder than it was called for, actions. Asleep on a pillow of his own folded hands, was Ren Amamiya himself. The leader of the Phantom Thieves and someone Akechi had a hard time admitting he might not be as against welcoming him into his life permanently as he thought not too long ago. Or maybe long ago. He keeps forgetting he missed out on a year of his life.

Akechi more feels Ren’s presence than sees it, with one of Goro’s hands being held by him in a loose grip, something he learned Amamiya made a habit of during his visits over the past year. He scowls, but doesn’t withdraw it, relishing in its warmth against his cold one. Warmth that, in the end, allowed him to escape his demons by the skin of his teeth. The memory makes his skin crawl.

Right after everything has happened, he was spat out of the Metaverse to die in some back alley like the trash he was. And yet, in no better state than a trampled mess of a stray weed growing on a busy sidewalk, he clung to life. Just like it, against all odds and expectations, in a place completely unfit for living, he tried to do his best, to find for a place to call his own. To persevere and prove everyone wrong, to reach his full potential, to bloom. And when he finally did and displayed all he was, all he had to offer, he’s gone overnight, having fulfilled his purpose. No trace left.

Or so he thought.

Instead of disappearing, like he wished to, it has only left him uprooted and worst of all, at the mercy of those who have seen him at his worst. It was terrifying, how everything that held him together was gone with a snap of his own fingers. But before he could wither and die, someone has gathered him in their hands, took and hid him away, safe but at the mercy of his saviour. His life no longer belonging to him. Again.

Goro only vaguely remembers being carried somewhere, away from that cursed building, where he made the first choice ever he was proud of. Each passing second was accentuated by the rhythmically pulsating heat in his left eye, sharply contrasting with how numb the rest of his body felt. He couldn’t make any sense of it, aside from something smelling strongly of coffee being pressed against the very epicentre. Made slightly more coherent by that realisation, his body suddenly remembered wounds were supposed to hurt, and the searing-hot pain ignited every single of his nerves overtaking all of his senses, all at once, within a fraction of a second. Unable to withstand it, his consciousness began to fade rapidly, and when it finally did, he hoped it’s for the last time.

(Next thing he remembered was waking up all clad in white, not black. But instead of wings growing from his back, there’s a pillow filled with down beneath his head. And instead of his left eye, a white square of gauze hid what’s left of it. And ever since the very first moment he was coherent enough to understand that he’s alive and for how long he’s been lost to the world, he’s dreaded becoming a part of it again. He didn’t get a say in that as, in their infinite stupidity, the Phantom Thieves were so sure they knew what he wanted better than him.)

Cooped up in the hospital with very little to occupy himself with, he couldn’t help but wonder what is the specific reason to him being given a chance to...return. Because, surely the Thieves must know there’s nothing waiting for him out there, right? That he had nothing left to give but his life in exchange for all the bad he’s done? What is he supposed to do if even that was unwanted? No one but him seems to care about any of that, about explaining anything to him. It doesn’t mean he won’t try to find the answer by himself.

Early on, his brain has readily supplied a reason, one he’s overly familiar with, no less. Immediately, it overrode any other rational explanation, no matter how much what he remembered from before the coma kept telling him otherwise. It had to be revenge. Had to. Obviously, the Phantom Thieves, being the only ones with the full knowledge of the extent of his crimes, must have wanted to punish him for all the pain he’s caused them and so many others. Goro Akechi, their final target.

So when Ren has showed up the next time after the epiphany, Goro nothing short of lunged at the younger boy the second he was in range. He just wanted everyone making decisions for him, everyone who thought they know better what he wants, to stop. And Ren could make it happen. Honestly, should have made it happen a long, long time ago.

(Hands, like thorns and spikes, are meant to keep everyone at an arm’s length, to hurt them, to deter them, to shape the reality to your whims-)

Nurses quickly rushed in to get Akechi under control, barely seconds after Ren had yelped in surprise. One after another, they have pushed the black haired boy away until he’s found his back pressed against the wall furthest away from the bed.

Standing there completely paralyzed, Ren has found himself unable to look away, panic rising steadily with his shoulders, as the scene in front of him unfolded. He couldn’t move a muscle and yet his eyes kept widening, breath quickening, unable to focus on anything but Akechi’s voice, rising sharply in distress with each new person that has laid their hands on him, feeling as through each pair of those hands is on him instead, grabbing, shoving, swinging at him-

-until it a moment later it’s died down completely and the small mob holding Akechi down began to gradually release him. But he’s made no attempt to get up or to resume fighting as the crowd around him dispersed. Ren could see the doctors’ and nurses’ lips moving as they threw glances in his direction, but couldn’t hear them over his own heartbeat. His legs felt like lead yet were barely holding him up, muscles having refused to obey his commands when all he wanted was to rush to Akechi’s side as all those adults were leaving the room, their job done. But all he could do, was to stare at the back of the single nurse that has stayed behind. She’s been hovering at the head of the bed, methodically fixing the sheets with sharp movements. She made no contact with Akechi, haven’t even attempted it and in fact, seemed to be avoiding any form of it.

Once she’s done though, she’s addressed Ren, politely but forcefully asking him to leave with her hand extended towards the door. Like a deer in the headlights, Ren felt like he’s miles away from this room, both present and not, he kept staring at the disgruntled nurse. Unable to hold her gaze, he made the mistake of glancing towards Goro and immediately wished he haven’t. Akechi looked awake, but not really aware; his consciousness kept dimming from the thickening sedative-induced haze in his mind. But he haven’t been completely stripped of his will to fight yet, it seems, there’s a storm brewing in his gaze, his brows furrowed as he stared at Ren with disturbing clarity, as if he was holding off the effects of whatever was coursing through his veins to let Ren know that this is all his fault.

Ren’s turned on his heel and left the hospital without a second thought.

The image haunted him on the way home. Akechi lying there, fists clenched and gaze growing dimmer and more unfocused with each passing second, but through the sheer strength of his will, still valiantly bored into him, until he’s claimed by dreamless sleep. His unconscious, but somehow still tense looking form, was the spitting image of when Ren was allowed to visit him for the first time. There were significantly fewer machines hooked up to the sleeping boy and bandages covering his skin this time, but it made the whole situation only that much better.

Somehow, Ren has managed to distract himself enough to not to ruminate over it for the rest of the day, but later that night, his dreams were filled with screams of ‘I didn’t ask for it’, ‘why didn’t you just let me die’ and ‘what do you want from me’. But most of all, the needle of a syringe filled with a clear substance, that was inserted into Goro’s upper arm without his consent, the betrayed look on his face as he’s being pushed down and held like that until he had stopped trashing, not even half a minute later, testament either how weak he still is or the how strong the sedative was.

Ren knew the image wouldn’t leave him anytime soon, if ever, with how it got burned into his mind with vivid details, constantly replaying itself in his head the next morning. In his dreams, it has blended with his own memories from that day, making him bolt from his bed to throw up in LeBlanc’s bathroom, as soon as his own screams have woken him up.

The list of state institutions Ren has come to hate only grew with time.

But he’d push it down with somewhat questionable success, akin to a plant that would constantly refuse to sit straight in a new pot. Akechi wasn’t making it any easier, taking jabs at him at any and all times like a hidden thorn, making it impossible to grasp how to get through to him. He only kept on trying Ren’s patience every single time Ren'd visited by attempting to make it be his last, to make Ren give up on him just like the nurses already have.

That is until Ren, unable to placate Akechi who by then was strong enough to both kick and scream at the same time, has enough of it. When he snapped back, grabbing Akechi’s shoulders to shake some sense into him, he watched as Goro’s single eye widen in surprise, only for it to immediately narrow once he gets over the initial shock, not hesitating to voice his displeasure immediately after. Loudly.

The security has not only thrown Ren out of the room before he even had had a chance to explain what happened, but banned him from visiting altogether; but Ren’s left the hospital only when they threatened to call the police otherwise.

Ren haven’t slept that night. And neither had Akechi.

A call from the hospital has Ren coming back just a few days later, though. Apparently, Goro’s kept refusing to eat or talk, or to even get out of bed, until Ren was allowed to visit again. Giving them his number was the furthest he went to cooperate with them, Ren later learned, and he doesn’t know if he should be unsettled or relieved such a detail was remembered by Akechi after a year long coma. He didn’t remember Akechi’s and made sure his phone haven’t either.

Ren wanted to spite him, make him wait, just like he has had. Even if deep down he knew, he would head to the hospital as soon as he’s free. Looked forward to it, but refused to acknowledge that thought.

He’s even brought some apples with him as a peace offering.

But as soon as Ren has arrived at the hospital, he immediately felt like an intruder. In the familiar corridor he had to make conscious effort not to spare a glance towards the bodyguard eyeing him with clear suspicion. Not only that, since as soon as he was out of his sight upon having entered Goro’s room, he’s ambushed by an overly eager nurse. And oh, she wasn’t shy about scrutinizing Ren from top to bottom, before she took the fruits from him with a sunny smile, promising she’ll be back as soon as she washes and cuts them. It’s clear who’s considered to be the one in need of supervision in this room.

Goro seemed to mirror his disgruntled expression, having instinctively squared his shoulders in preparation for whatever may come, now that they are alone. It’s surprisingly silent for how hard they are trying to hack through each other’s perfectly groomed masks with just their body language alone. Akechi’s haven’t been pruned in a while though and Ren takes a moment to focus on how prominent the bags under the other’s eyes are, hiding under the shadow of a hastily trimmed hedge that were his bangs. Even under the missing one. They rival the ones he was sporting during his detective prince days, when he thought LeBlanc’s dim lighting was hiding, instead of pronouncing them.

None of them were eager to reach out first; words could be shears that’d cut carefully cultivated branches, after all.

In the end, it was Ren who has moved first to sit in the chair next to Akechi’s bed, his steps almost soundless with practice. It only got clearer how apprehensive the other was when Ren has gotten closer, jaw and fists clenched tight, a cornered animal ready to lash out. Keeping his own expression carefully neutral, Ren didn’t let himself falter, in hopes that maybe this time, Akechi would believe his intentions. Or at least listened.

As soon as he’s seated, Goro’s mouth opened, that old habit of filling the silence with idlest of chit-chats immediately kicking in, something that Ren wasn’t sure he’s glad it’s the one thing that hasn’t changed. But in an uncharacteristic manner no sounds have left it, only the rustle of cloth as his hands curled tightly like young fern, filled the air instead.

In that moment it became weirdly apparent how used Ren was to Akechi being the one strike up the conversation first, something that obviously wasn’t going to happen, but he himself has come to hate silence over the course of the past year. There’s no need to make it harder for the both of them.

“I know you’re angry, you have every right to be, but maybe direct it at people who deserve it-” 

“Are you implying-” Goro cut in, having perked up at the sound of Ren’s voice.

“Yeah,” but Ren wanted none of it and his voice, raised in Joker-like fashion, made Akechi grit his teeth, “and it’s me who should be angry with you, even though we aren’t enemies anymore. Maybe never were.” He knew Goro was smart enough to understand what he meant. The way he had hanged his head told Ren as much. “But all things considered...we dismissed your feelings and situation you were in pretty heavily as well.” It hurt so, so much less to not say ‘I’. “So now that it’s all in the past, we want you to have a fair chance at starting over.” Goro’s eyes only kept widening as he’s being fed those clearly rehearsed lines, was being spoken to as though he was a stranger, as through him and Ren have never-

But he swallowed the bile and didn’t let his inner turmoil show beyond that. “You didn’t know everything.”

“True, but later it became apparent how many hints you were dropping. Too bad you didn’t actually tell us anything, we could have come up with something other than getting me beaten within an inch of my life or you ending up shot by your cognitive double.” Ren pauses to slow down his speech and catch his breath. A wry smile makes itself home on his face before he spoke again. “I mean, I enjoyed our back-and-forths but when it escalated to the point of ‘who would be the death of the other first’ it kinda stopped being fun. Especially when you got a leg up on me.” Ren straightens back up to put safe distance between them when he notices Akechi leaning away from him.

It’s impossible to tell who’s more out of their element.

“Are you seriously going to make ‘who came closer to dying’ a competition?” Goro quietly asked once he’s sat up properly, but this time at the edge of the bed farthest from Ren.

“At this point I can only make fun of it not to go crazy.” 

“...Fair enough.”

It’s quiet for brief moment while both of them mull over how careful they have to be with their words. Neither of them have strength to fight anymore, too much and nothing to lose at once, but both know it’s inevitable for them to clash again, so why postpone it? It’s not LeBlanc, where keeping up appearances, keeping it vague and neutral was a child’s play.

The hole Goro’s dug for himself is so deep there’s no way he’s getting out, so he might as well dig deeper, and that’s exactly what he does just to break the silence. “So many problems would be instantly solved with me out of the picture and you know it.”

There’s clear accusation in Akechi’s voice and Ren won’t stand for it. “Your life shouldn’t be the price for things going smoother.”

“But it can be. Or, could have been.” He shrugs. “I was never against it, would welcome it actually.” Akechi’s watchful red eye stares unblinkingly, awaiting the response to this.

Ren walked straight into this, knew what would happen and just allowed it to happen. Two years and he learned nothing. He bites his lip, then bites the bullet, meeting Akechi’s stern gaze. “I know you won’t believe it now, but...saving you made a lot of things easier for me.”

Goro only snorts at that. “Easier how? Knowing you and your damn friends would have a proper chance at carrying out your revenge on me one day? To watch me grovel and beg for forgiveness until you decide to put me out of my misery when you get bored of it?”

“No, no, Akechi, none of that and you know it-”

“Is it pity then? So that thanks to your benevolence I’ll be nursed back to health to be thrust back into the world that sees me as nothing, now for even more reasons? To try to fix everything I’ve done when I know it’s impossible? The only mistake I’ll able to correct is the one my cognitive double made and you know it.” By the end of the sentence it was the puppet they met in that blasted engine room was staring at him; eyes just empty and voice trembling on the verge of hysteria. 

There’s no air in Ren’s lungs. “It isn’t as simple as that-”

They are interrupted, or maybe saved, by the nurse coming back with a plate of neatly arranged apple pieces, eyeing both of them suspiciously, especially Ren’s white-knuckled grip on his knees, until Akechi assures her in that honeyed TV voice of his, that everything is in order and would appreciate if they could be left alone.

Sick to his stomach, Ren helps himself to a piece of the fruit before excusing himself, unable to watch as an impenetrable barrier rises between them again, and just like the last time, unable to prevent it from happening again.

When Ren came back the next day, he’s believed he’s better equipped to scale the wall.

“Do what you want, it’s not like I can stop you.” Akechi didn’t even glance up from his book when he’s asked if he’s alright with Ren’s presence.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“I don’t care.” He’s been stuck on the same paragraph ever since he’s heard familiar footsteps nearing his room.

“I think you do.” Ren shifted his weight from one foot to another. “I don’t want you to feel alone and you don’t have a phone anymore. That’s all.” He’s met with silence. ”The nurses said you made a lot of progress with your therapy but I didn’t bring anything to celebrate it with-”

“Amamiya.”

“...Alright, alright. And it’s Ren.” He relents but with a smile, and he sees Akechi’s lips quirk up just the tiniest bit as well and he understood the acknowledgement was enough of a reward.

Goro smiled, but there’s nothing to celebrate aside from him getting closer to his judgement day.

Everything was taken away from him, even something as simple as physical strength and endurance, the only two things he actually liked about himself, gone as he wasted away lying in a hospital bed for over a year. But it’s alright, he’s told himself as he proceeded to lie down slowly, gritting his teeth in discomfort as his spine got used to the change in position, pointedly ignoring Ren’s hovering hands that have came to offer help. It’s alright because he has always been a wreck, but at least now he looked like one. One lie less. He exhaled deeply; with stiffness in his back gone he’s able to relax, his eyes having slipped close against his will.

“Tired?”

The quiet inquiry made Akechi jerk awake, visibly; the small, knowing smile that’s appeared on Ren’s face when their gazes met told him as much. He tried to hide his, rather unsuccessful, attempt at blinking the sleep away from his eyes by having his head fall back against the pillow dramatically. The only thing he’s been tired of was Ren’s persistence. Even if the rehabilitation left him sweaty, gasping for breath and aching all over, it didn’t compare to that stubbornness.

Having pretty convincingly masked a yawn as a sigh defeat, he was about to fall asleep in the other’s presence after all, Goro fixed Ren with a unimpressed stare. Like it mattered to anybody whatever state he’s in. He therefore didn’t dignify Ren with an answer, having felt no need to explain himself, but also not trusting his sleep-addled brain to formulate a response that wouldn’t have been encouraging Ren to keep pestering him. And so, Goro allowed his eye to slip closed, hoping the silence will speak for him.

”I’ll be quiet, then.” 

“Suit yourself, Amamiya.” Akechi repeated with a lot less venom this time.

Ren’s snorted in amusement, but said nothing and silence filled the room again, a comfortable one. But with sleep not having come as fast as he’d like it to, Goro only has his ears to tell him what Amamiya was up to. Even straining them, all he could pick up on was delicate tapping against what most likely was a phone screen. Not the usual clicks of nails against the glass though, more efficient and faster, but the quieter, less precise tapping. And Ren was all about efficiency.

Akechi didn’t know what to do with that knowledge as the gentle, ambient noise lulled him to sleep.

Later, when Akechi was woken up for food and some exercise around the time visiting hours end, he’s caught a glimpse of curly, black hair vanishing behind the closing doors. He didn’t once comment on how nurses clamored about ‘how good of a friend he has’ and pretended not to hear the clear disbelief in their voice or when they wondered out loud what has happened between them for Ren to visit him so often. Like Goro hasn’t been asking himself the exact same questions over and over again.

When he’s finally been left alone late in the evening, he lied awake and wished he’d slept for a lot longer, another year, another winter, another forever, to have everyone come to their own conclusions and move on.

That winter was supposed to bring him peace and much needed rest, damn the rest of the world, he played his part. He showed his true colors, forced himself bloom too quickly, before he was strong enough to shoulder the weight of this decision; realisation that he would collapse under it with nothing to fall back on came too late. He didn’t care by the end of that year though, he didn’t close his eyes with the hope of warmth of longer days to wake up to afterwards. He closed them in hopes of not having to endure the struggle and chaos anymore. In hopes of not having to conduct himself perfectly in preparation for that one moment, one that never came no less.

There wasn't a single fruit to show for all the flowers, and he only had himself to blame for that.

A soft hum escaping Ren brings Akechi backs to the present. The hand covering his own twitches and slides off of it a bit, but Goro immediately moves to nudge it back to its original spot. The first time they held hands feels like a lifetime ago, the unexpected comfort and reassurance it provided only an echo now as anxiety wells up in Goro’s stomach.

Does their, for the lack of a better word, relationship even means anything anymore? Is there anything to salvage, if yes, do they want to? Does Ren think about it as often as Goro does? Has he thought about it in the past year? None of them have tried to even acknowledge it so far, but getting shot in the head by your once significant other is as good of a break-up indicator as any other. One almost sacrificing themselves works just as well. 

Akechi keeps staring at their hands, their shapes blurring against his will, the sting in his eye surfacing from a wound that will need a lot more than a year to heal. Goro knows, because the grimace he sees on his own face each time he makes the mistake of looking in the mirror, is often reflected on Ren’s face when he thinks no one can see. How long will it take to move on? Too long, probably, because Ren visits way too often to just seek closure for himself. How’s he supposed to come to terms with everything that has transpired between them when Ren’s actions make Goro question everything he thought he knew? Is he doing Ren courtesy by not bringing any of this up or is he just delaying the inevitable? If there’s one thing Goro is sure of, whatever feelings the other had, if there have ever been any, are long gone. The gesture though, the visits, the genuine concern and interest. Ren didn’t owe him any of this. And yet.

And yet, it all only serves to tear Akechi even further apart because he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know what to do when he doesn’t even have his looks to his advantage anymore, and Ren, his self-appointed protector, or maybe tormentor, chooses this exact moment to wake up.

“...Akechi, you up? You missed dinner-” at first it’s a yawn that interrupts Ren, then something small and cold hitting the top of his hand. It’s already damp, did he drool on it in his sleep? Gross, why didn’t Akechi wake him up, he surely noticed-

Something drips on his hand again and Ren pauses his attempt to rub sleep out of his eyes. The sight of a droplet of clear liquid sliding down his palm to be caught by the cotton sheets greets him, and then another. It’s not hard to imagine where they came from, but sharply looking up to witness a tear making its way down Goro’s cheek knocks the breath out of Ren’s lungs. He’s frozen like his heartbeat.

“Akechi? Akechi, hey.”

His expression isn’t scrunched one bit; it looks relaxed, blank even. If not for the bloodshot eye and tiny gasps escaping his slightly parted lips, Goro would simply appear lost in thought. Thoughts that threaten to break his neck with their weight, judging from how heavily Akechi’s head is hanging. Complete silence surrounds them yet Ren feels like every single string of his heart is pulled at, a cacophony of worry making itself known, resurfacing from under his anger, frustrations, uncertainties. God, he learned nothing. And since there’s no one is here to stop him, he won’t do it himself.

Movements slow and measured, Ren makes sure to stay in Akechi’s line of sight as he reaches out to place a hand on the former detective’s shoulder to get his attention. He doesn’t get even close though, before he’s lashed out at.

“No, no!” Is gasped out by Goro, suddenly very animated, as he slaps Ren’s arm away and curls into himself, hiding his face in his hands.

With a deep breath and a hand to his brow, Ren backs out. He was nowhere near ready do deal with this, even if he experienced almost the same thing towards himself. Could he make Goro sleep another year? He’s angry at himself for thinking that but at the same time-

A pained sound and his own disgust at himself halts that train of thought when a sight of Akechi hunched down, pressing both of his balled fists against his empty socket, greets his eyes.

Ren is upon him before the older boy has any chance of pushing him away again.

“What are you-” Akechi yelps in protest when his hands are forcefully yanked away from his face and brought close to Ren’s chest.

“Stop that.” Stop? Stop what? He will not stand for being treated like a child. Not by Ren, of all people.

So when Ren bends down to look him fully in the eye and opens his mouth, in desperation Akechi wiggles one of his hands free to slap it over it. He wants none of that. But he’s also still very easy to be overpowered and Ren wastes no time prying the hand away from his lips. But instead of opening, they stretch into a sad grimace as Ren leans in to awkwardly embrace the other boy and bring him closer. And then, out of nowhere, they are being pressed just below Akechi’s missing eye so gently, it almost feels like an accident. Almost.

Goro’s breath hitches as his whole body tenses; his teeth grind together so hard he can feel the headache incoming just from that.

“Stop trying to fool me by fooling yourself. Stop thinking you’re doing me a favour by pushing me away. I’d like to think we’re past that” When Goro only further curls into himself hearing those words, Ren continues. “We didn’t save you to punish you. I’m not coming here to rub salt into your wounds.” A damp spot on Ren’s shirt keeps growing. “I’m not happy things have turned out this way they did, when we both could have prevented it. I never lied back then and I’m not lying now, but I could have tried harder and I apologize for that. Please, believe at least that.”

It’s too much. A sharp sob startles Ren enough to loosen his hold and the freed space is immediately filled by shaky arms encircling Ren like vines, latching onto the back of his shirt with so much force a couple of seams snap. Briefly stunned, Ren matches the strength of the embrace as soon as he understands this is the first time since the engine room, he’s seeing Akechi without a mask.

The sense of deja-vu is almost overwhelming; keeping everything down only for it to all come back up with a well-timed push. Ren knows how it is on the receiving end but on the giving? It feels like kicking somebody who already is at their lowest, but better than anyone else he knows the snake can continue to eat its own tail to avoid dealing with reality until it forgets why it started doing it in the first place. Like when Ren he didn’t visit Akechi for a couple of weeks at one point, in order to cool down and bury the feelings he had for the other. An unsuccessful attempt that brought on more guilt than anything, now that he thinks about it.

It feels good to hold Goro with so many barriers and masks between them gone. Warm and alive and here.

It takes him a good couple of minutes to calm down, but even when the sobs and whines that have attracted couple of worried nurses subside, he continues to hide his face in the crook of Ren’s neck. With how quiet he suddenly gets, the tremors whacking the former detective’s frame are the only indication he hasn’t cried himself to sleep. But Ren wasn’t spared when he was at his lowest, and since Akechi hasn’t earned himself that privilege yet either, he continues.

“There was no point in working for things that had no chance of happening.” Or not, as Akechi gets to speak first, in a surprisingly steady voice to boot. Ren sighs.

“Maybe back then, but now? You’ll never know unless you try.”

“Don’t waste your breath on me, Amamiya. You will not change my mind.” Akechi’s voice kept getting progressively more hoarse.

“It won’t stop me from trying. Could...us becoming real friends become such a thing for you?”

“I don’t think you hear your own words, Amamiya.”

“Friends helped me to deal with the aftermath of what happened back then. You deserve to get that help as well. Give yourself a chance. Wish you would give me one as well, but. Yeah. We got time.”

“I wouldn’t be getting my hopes up in your place.” But despite those words there’s something lighter in Akechi’s voice as he turns his head to see at least a bit of Ren’s face.

“You can only bounce back once you’ve hit rock bottom.” Their eyes meet briefly and somehow, no sparks fly.

“Sorry to break it to you, but my life has only been about successively hitting new lows.”

“Does that apply to me as well?” Ren knows he’s not getting an answer, even though not pulling their punches was kinda the thing they had going on before. Ren wouldn’t be caught dead admitting that, not any time soon at least, but he missed it dearly. Missed Akechi dearly.

And among other things, he used to be extremely bitter he wasn’t enough for Goro. Very, very briefly he wanted the former detective to taste the loneliness, despair and pain he himself had to endure quite a few times ever since the betrayal. But without fail, something would always remind him that Goro has known all of that and more for so, so much longer. Without fail it would redirect Ren’s anger at Akechi towards himself, for not trying hard enough. If he didn’t give his all, why would the other do the same.

But most of all he wants to see Akechi enjoy life again. Or maybe for the first time, ever.

“Feeling better?” Ren tries to get the other’s attention in a quiet, lighthearted voice.

And maybe it’s too early to say that, maybe he’s putting too much faith in Akechi to make things better. Maybe it would feel good, to twist the knife instead, or maybe not. One thing Ren was sure of, it’s that he isn’t willing to lower himself to their abusers’ level to feel that shallow satisfaction. It’s something he probably wouldn’t have done a year ago and it makes Ren pause. A year, that Akechi didn’t have to think things through and come to terms with them. But it’s a start and even if takes months to get Goro to understand that in this struggle he isn’t alone, Ren won’t judge him until the next spring comes around.

Ren doesn’t say anything when Akechi conceals hiding his long-healed injury by rearranging himself to face the same as him and watch the branches covered in pink flowers sway in the wind. Their gentle movement is reflected in the single red eye Ren can see as he glances down with amusement as Goro settles down comfortably, pointedly avoiding meeting their gaze. Before Ren can complain, Akechi speaks.

“I thought I’d never see the spring again.” More than once, Ren though so himself. It brings a light smile to his face.

“Technically you didn’t see the last year’s.” Maybe for the best.

“Have I really-” Akechi pauses when he looks up to see Ren’s gaze trained on the side of his face that will forever remind him of what he’s put so many people through. He covers it with his palm and angles his head away from the other.

Ren has never seen what the worst of the damage the white patch covers. Partially because it felt like a breach of trust, but mainly because he was scared to accept that it could have been prevented. Now, the dressing above Akechi’s missing eye is all scrunched up from their little tousle and Ren’s hands itch.

“Akechi.” The way Goro’s back tenses tells him he has his attention. “Can I?”

It’s obvious what Ren is asking for. It’s obvious Goro dreaded the moment the question was going to be inevitably asked. Has he not bared himself enough? Why is Ren insisting on exposing him further? He brings his other hand to cradle the covered scar.

“Does it still hurt?” Ren still remembers how much it bled when they found Akechi, how crushed he felt when when he learned it can’t be salvaged after all.

Akechi opens his mouth only to close it, lowering one of his hands and absentmindedly picking at a corner of the gauze with the other. He lowers his gaze too, clearly debating whether to tell the truth or not and while Ren’s heart clenches, he’s happy he’s not immediately fed a lie.

“A bit. Sometimes.” Akechi’s tone is measured and quiet. And after a short pause. “Thank you for asking.” The politeness doesn’t seem forced, a bit confused maybe. But the attempt at distancing himself is clear.

“I’m glad. And you’re welcome.” Ren tries to keep his expression relaxed and open as Akechi searches it, deciding on the next move.

“The dressing...it needs to be changed anyway. I-” he clears his throat to stall for time, “I’m...not opposed to doing it right now. If you take off your glasses, that is.”

Taken aback but not surprised by the request not to be the only one to show vulnerability, Ren smiles. Being seen without them is not that much of a deal for him anymore, more of a habit when he’s in Tokyo, but Akechi doesn’t have to know that.

“Alright-,” but Ren doesn’t even get to finish the sentence, before Akechi’s fingers are already outstretched towards the frames. Ren doesn’t resist and stays more or less still, with a lopsided smile observing as the eyewear in Goro’s hands is being properly scrutinized by him, before his gaze suddenly lifts and focuses on Ren’s face, taking it in. While Ren has seen others being surprised at how different he looks without his glasses quite a few times, no one has has ever shown this much interest.

“Should I pull my hair back for better viewing?” Joker is invoked in speech and mannerisms to hide Ren’s nerves. Without waiting for a response, he cards one of his hands through his hair, grinning as he stills for a short while to hold a portion of his bangs flat against the side of his head. He doesn’t miss the way Akechi’s eye widens and sparkles, making Ren break eye contact and duck his head in embarrassment. He can only hope he imagines the slight heat on his cheeks.

And Akechi? He could only hope he could make Ren wear his glasses less with how much sharper, how much more different his face seems in their absence.

But the dreaded moment to reveal himself comes and wanting to get this over with Akechi brings his fingers to his empty socket, not waiting for Ren to compose himself, and harshly pulls at the dressing in sharp tugs. He doesn’t get far before his hands are captured.

“Let me.” And Akechi does.

Slowly, the gauze is peeled away to reveal a shut eyelid. It’s both more and less than what Ren was expecting, with the skin looking healthy and not discolored in any way, save for the patches of light scar tissue surrounding the outer corner of his missing eye. To see how far it goes, Ren pulls back Akechi’s hair back to discover more healed up damage. There’s an actual indent, a straight line from the bullet must have grazed him, just below his temple, and when Ren puts the hair in his hold behind Akechi’s ear, there’s a small part of the lobe missing.

As Ren takes it all in wide-eyed, horrified wonder, Akechi’s first instinct is to shy away from that unblinking stare. And while what happened to his eye is the smallest of consequences of his actions, it’s the most visible one. One he will never be able to amend, but maybe for the best, so that he will never forget about the mistakes he has made.

But Ren doesn’t let him turn away completely, and before Akechi can hang his head, there are hands on his cheek and below his chin, lightly guiding it back up.

“Hey, it’s ok. Thank you for showing me.” Akechi only blinks dumbly in response, having received a response he clearly didn’t expect. Disgust was expected and it would be alright because that’s exactly what he thinks about it, but Ren is Ren and nothing is as you’d expect with him. And now, he has accepted him, again, and Akechi’s heart is torn between disbelief and relief. He wants to believe Ren’s words of never having lied to him, but it would also mean their lightly romantically colored mutual interest in was sincere from Ren’s side. Akechi knew it was sincere from his, but he suspects the other might be in similar situation to his. Hesitant to trust. 

And when Akechi realises he wants to change that more than anything, he covers Ren’s hands, each now resting at the sides of his face, with his own palms and closes his remaining eye, savoring the warmth and contact, his frantic heartbeat finally calming. He’s long overdue for some displays of affection from his side.

What he feels isn’t love, not yet at least. But if allowed to, he wouldn’t mind for it to turn into that one day.

“Goro?” With how quietly Ren says his given name has Akechi thinking he is dreaming, everything around him happening in his sleep. Opening his eye again disproves nothing; having Ren’s face this close to his own is a dream in and on itself.

Akechi licks his lips, very conscious of rapt attention Ren pays to the action. Should they do this? Definitely not. Does he want it? More than anything else. So when their mouths lightly press against one another at first and more firmly not even a second later, Goro couldn’t care less about consequences.

They both aren’t the same people they were when they last indulged in their shared warmth and touch that could stir the sleeping embers at the bottom of their souls. That could rekindle the trampled fire, that once has burned them both so severely. But this time, they had to learn to handle it better and so, Ren breaks off when he feels a bead of sweat roll down the side of his face.

For the briefest of moments, Goro’s face is so bright, so alight with life despite how much it changed and Ren is transported back to present when the glow fades.

“We really learned nothing, didn’t we.” Akechi murmurs and lets his head fall back against Amamiya’s shoulder.

“What do you mean, we improved plenty.” There’s a clear warning in the flat look Goro shoots his way and the smile on Ren’s lips stretches further before quickly disappearing. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, this doesn’t even come close to the worst mistakes any of us made.” Goro closes his eye.

“You sure are setting the bar low.” Exasperation colors Ren’s words as he fishes for one of Goro’s hands that hides in the folds of the comforter. It trembles, but they pretend it doesn’t when their fingers intertwine.

It felt just like that winter a year ago, when all expectations got turned on their heads and Ren came to associate it with loss and departures. Now, he expected spring to be full of struggle and chaos, but rays of hope were starting to poke through the clouds with the promises of making up for the lost time.

“You said I had no idea how happy you were I survived but...I might be starting to understand.” A band-aid over a gaping wound, but it was just the beginning.

For being chosen as sacrificial pawns of a fake, manipulative god, they did quite alright, all things considered. They would sort out everything with time, how to trust, how to cope, how to heal. For now they were just two boys, in the spring of their lives.


End file.
